Crystal's One Night of Love

Chapter 244 Whose Child Is It

In the cloak of the night, nestled in the narrow alley, stood an age-worn dwelling.

Henry’s gaze was fixated on his younger sister, who he had doted on for many years. He examined her attire, plain to the point of austerity, and the crumbling structure that served as her shelter.

His eyes throbbed with a sting that could not be suppressed, and the fingers that clutched his cigarette trembled subtly.

Taking a deep drag of his cigarette, he stepped inside the place and scanned around. “Where’s the kid?”

Melora was taken aback. “Has Crystal told you?”

Henry responded in a helpless tone, “Do you expect her to help you keep it a secret and watch as you continue living in this squalor? Whose child is it?”

Up until that moment, he was truly oblivious to the identity of the child’s father.

Melora wouldn’t let him in the room.

Henry extinguished his cigarette, exhaling the last puff of smoke. “Who is it?”

No matter who the father was, he wanted to beat him up so badly and break his teeth.

Melora blocked the door, pleading in a hushed voice, “Berthold and I are doing fine. Henry, I can support him on my own. Please don’t ask anymore!”

Henry’s eyes reddened.

He was but half a step away from her. With an outstretched arm, he pulled her to the side and entered the room.

The bedroom was of meager proportion, not even covering ten square meters.

An aged bed and a tiny desk housing several dozen magazines was all it contained.

Henry flicked through the trashy magazines, all showcasing Melora on the cover, the young lady of the Miller family.

He swallowed hard, making his way toward the old bed.

On it, lay a small child, slumbering peacefully.

His skin was fair, and he had a full head of dark brown hair.

Henry’s eyes turned bloodshot at the familiar eyes and unique hair color.

He no longer needed to ask Melora who the father was, as there was no need to do so anymore!

Henry whirled around, his eyes burning holes into his little sister.

Melora’s lips quivered, and her face contorted in distress as she pleaded, “Henry, don’t look for him! Don’t… I’ve broken up with him.”

Henry reached out, tenderly touching the little boy.

He paused and asked gently, “Him? Which him? Melora, tell me.”

Melora covered her mouth in shock.

It dawned on her that Henry must have realized who the father was.

Henry’s voice was dangerously low as he said, “When did you two become a thing? Do you understand what you’re doing? He’s at least ten years older than you. A man of his stature, in his forties and still unmarried, has had his share of meeting women from all walks of life, so why would he be attracted to a greenhorn like you?”

Melora was crushed.

She knew she had been punching above her weight.

Henry didn’t ask anymore. He took off his coat, put it on little Berthold, and gently lifted.

“Henry!” Melora clutched his arm, begging.

In the dim light, Henry’s expression was as calm as still water. “Either you come home with me now, or I call Alfred to pick you and your son up. You decide.”

Melora had no choice.

She packed some clothes and followed Henry.

they descended the stairs,

at Henry with a hint of fear

head, assuring gently, “I am your uncle. Your mommy is

Melora, Berthold relaxed, closing his

the little boy into the child seat in his car, then turned

slid into the car, murmuring, “Could you not tell Mom and

“You’re afraid now?”

around the front of the car and got in. He was infuriated and wanted to smoke.

a long silence, he

car slowly pulled into the mansion’s

to disturb Crystal for she had her own worries. The sound of the opening. and closing of the door stirred her awake. She slipped on her robe

Henry

froze for a

spoke in a hushed tone. “Let Berthold sleep with Skyler tonight. You go and talk

Crystal nodded.

staircase again, she opened the door

nestled in his arms, Henry entered, gingerly tucking the tiny boy into the warm

had been too

eyes cracking open into slits before she rolled over, pulling Berthold close to her as if she was cuddling

fair as porcelain and finely chiseled, were strikingly similar, as were their dark brown

his heart soften

patted Berthold. “This child takes after his

her guilt on her

a tender voice. “You must

out more

said softly, “Don’t let the children hear you.

her a fierce glare, but times

was once frightened now wore an armor of courage. “Don’t take your anger out on me,” she warned

tense look on

hand. “Stay with Melora. I’ll head to the

agreed with

Yet, when faced with the situations at home, they

am I to do? After all, I am Melora’s brother, and Crystal is

she began, “Don’t mind your brother’s Let’s freshen up first. Let me prepare

to step

emotion washed

hand, she reassured, “You should have come back

called out in a soft

for us to eat. You

Melora nodded.

to prepare the snack. By the time

her own cotton pajamas, the kind where the vibrant colors were nearly

Crystal noticed.

remark and beckoned with a tremble in her

and

longer the chatterbox who couldn’t stop talking like a print machine

kept

filled with tears. “Crystal, I’m scared.

could she

living a

they were swept away by the winds

him in the newspaper. He was still the dignified

radiance. Moreover, the passage of time had

to vent his anger. But he would never hurt Berthold.” She could not promise

girl

settling Melora in, Crystal went to see Henry in

the study. The room was dim, save for a single wall lamp

desk, smoking. The ashtray before him was filled to the brim, a clear sign

closed the door behind her, walked

murmured, “You’re smoking too much! Aren’t you afraid of

her

from any other night, as Crystal voluntarily approached him, sat on his lap,

out the cigarette and leaned into her

hadn’t insisted on going to Kingdom of Brundela back then, your uncle and Melora may not have had the chance to get together.

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